by Jacqui Rose
The boot to the side of her head sent her flying back against the table and the ringing in her ear almost muted out what Charlie was screaming at her. ‘Too fucking late! You call yourself family and then you have the cheek just to hand me four hundred quid! You cheeky bitch. I can’t believe it. I mean, there’s me thinking that you’re pulling your weight and it turns out you’re just mugging me off … Four hundred quid for a whole day’s work.’
In serious pain, Shannon hugged her knees to her chest as she sat against the wall. ‘I tried, I really did.’
Charlie’s bellow filled the entire room as he charged towards Shannon, lifting her up from the floor by her hair. He stuffed the money she’d given him into her mouth, pushing it down her throat, making her gag, making her face turn from red to blue. Her eyes opened wide in terror as she struggled to breathe.
‘Tried! Are you being funny? All you have to do is open your mouth or open your legs and bingo! You hardly have to be a frigging genius, but what you want is a free ride ain’t it, Shan? You don’t want to do any work. You’re taking the piss because you think I’m soft for family. Well think again, darlin’, because I warned you before about handing over this sort of money.’ He shook her hard, and her head flicked back and forth, before he dropped her back on the floor, watching in disgust as she vomited up the contents of her stomach along with the money he’d stuffed in her mouth.
Void of any sympathy, Charlie raged, ‘I hope you’re going to clear that up. This ain’t a free boarding house, Shannon. You’re no better than a dirty dog.’
Pulling off her top and quickly trying to clean up the vomit with it, Shannon nodded fearfully. ‘I know, Char, and I’m really sorry … Look, there, that’s better, it’s gone. It’s all clean now.’
Charlie crouched down to Shannon, curling up his nose at the smell of bile. ‘Stop the crying, for God’s sake. I don’t know what you expect me to do, Shan. I mean, seriously, tell me how I’m supposed to pay for all you girls, and pay for this place and all the other expenses I have, when all you give me for a day’s work is this?’
Unable to stop crying, Shannon wiped her mouth with her top, which was now covered in vomit and dirt. Mucus and snot stuck to her cheek. Then looking so much younger than her sixteen years, she trembled, gazing at Charlie through her swollen, black eye. ‘Char, I’m so sorry, you got to believe me. I won’t do it again.’
Grabbing another handful of Shannon’s hair, Charlie pushed his face onto hers. He spoke in a hiss. ‘You say that every time, and every time I give you another chance. Maybe if you spent less time sucking that crack pipe and more time sucking cock, there wouldn’t be a problem.’
Shannon nodded her head, but she flinched as Charlie pulled her hair harder and continued to talk. ‘It’s no good, Shan. If I give you special treatment, all the other girls will want special treatment too, and I can’t be doing with that. I can’t do with the grief, so you need to say ta-ta.’
Shock crossed Shannon’s face, her eyes full of fear. ‘What … what are you talking about?’
Standing up, Charlie wiped his hands on his tailor-made dark blue jeans. ‘I’m letting you go, Shan, I’m not anybody’s mug.’
Panicked, Shannon crawled towards Charlie, grappling at his trouser leg. ‘Please, please, Uncle Charlie, I’ll try harder. I’ll do anything you want, just please don’t get rid of me.’
Trying to shake her off his leg, Charlie bellowed. ‘For God’s sake, get up!’
Shannon continued to beg, her voice becoming louder and more high-pitched as hysteria set in. ‘No! No, Char, please. I love you. I don’t want to go, please don’t make me go, I want to stay here and work for you. Please, Uncle Charlie, I’m sorry.’
Turning to one of his men who was sitting reading a magazine in the corner, Charlie spoke abrasively. ‘Get her out of here, Frank, now!’
Whereupon, Frank picked up Shannon – who scratched and fought like a tomcat – and took her outside to the dark streets of Soho, dumping her still crying and half naked in the alleyway.
‘Do you have to do that shit?’ A few streets away in the empty club in Sutton Row, Vaughn stared at Alfie as he hoovered up another line of finely cut cocaine.
Standing up straight, Alfie squeezed his nostrils between his fingers as the powder burnt the inside of his nose. He glanced at Vaughn, feeling the numbness at the back of his throat as he spoke. ‘I get enough grief from Franny, I don’t need you acting like me mother as well. Just lighten up – it’s a few lines, that’s all. Maybe you need to take a toot, help you chill out more.’
Grabbing Alfie’s expensive shirt, Vaughn twisted him around. Both their handsome faces screwed up in rage as they stared at each other, full of hostility. Vaughn’s green eyes narrowed. ‘I don’t need to get out of me head and neither do you. In case that shit has made you forget, we’ve got a problem with Charlie, and I’m not talking about the stuff you put up your nose.’
Pushing Vaughn’s hands away, and biting down the rising feeling of stress, Alfie glared. ‘I know what we have, and winding yourself up more ain’t going to help.’
‘Oh, and that shit is, is it?’
Exasperated, Alfie walked around the bar to pour himself a glass of vodka, trying to even out the buzz of the coke. ‘Look, let’s just wait for Franny, and then we can decide what we’re going to do.’
Vaughn laughed scornfully as he tapped his special-edition diamond Rolex. ‘It’s twenty past three, mate. Franny ain’t coming – not here, anyway …’
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’
Vaughn looked immaculate – despite the altercation with Charlie’s men earlier – in his silk grey shirt and Jacob Cohen jeans. He sat down on the bar stool. ‘You called Franny almost two hours ago and she’s still not here. Don’t you get it?’
Aggravated, partly by Vaughn and partly by the fact that the cocaine wasn’t giving him the high he wanted, the pulse on Alfie’s jaw began to throb. ‘Get what?’
‘What do you think she’s been doing?’
Alfie shrugged. ‘She was in the bath, or doing her nails, all that crap that girls like to do.’
Bemused, Vaughn stared at Alfie, his voice mocking. ‘Is that what she said? Is that what she told you?’
‘Well kind of, she said that …’ Alfie trailed off, remembering that Franny hadn’t actually told him anything. ‘Look, does it matter what she said? She’ll be here.’
Reaching for the bowl of cashew nuts, Vaughn popped one into his mouth. He pointed at Alfie. ‘Yes, actually it does matter. If she was at home when you called, why isn’t she here already? Even me old mum could walk it in fifteen minutes, let alone Franny.’
‘You need to back off – that’s my woman you’re talking about, and I don’t like what you’re getting at.’
Not interested in doing anything near to backing off, Vaughn continued. ‘I don’t like it meself, but she ain’t to be trusted. You know that, but you just don’t want to admit it.’
Knocking back the vodka and immediately pouring himself another drink, Alfie said, ‘You’ve just got it in for her. Ever since she took that money, you’ve been looking for something to hang on her.’
‘Well do you blame me? She’s screwed us over once and she’s capable of doing that again.’
Angrily, Alfie threw the glass to the side. He rubbed the stubble on his chin. ‘She ain’t like that.’
‘Oh, please, Alf, that’s exactly what you said last time, yet she took two million quid right from under our noses.’
‘She did that to save her family.’
‘Whatever the reason she still did it and even to this day we ain’t got our money back. Wake up, son, and see what’s in front of your face.’
Trying his hardest not to grab Vaughn and give him a good hiding, Alfie slammed his fist down on the bar. ‘First off, never call me son, and secondly where do you get off trying to cause trouble? Don’t get me wrong, it pissed me off as well and it caused us a whole load of grief, but just cos someon
e’s late don’t mean they’re up to no good. Fuck me, that would mean most of the population at one time or another were mugging each other off.’
Vaughn snorted with derision. ‘Why all of a sudden the rose-tinted glasses, eh? You need to smash those fuckers up and see what’s going on in front of your nose.’
‘So where’s your proof then? You ain’t got any have you?’
‘If you must know I heard her on the phone earlier, telling someone not to call her. She was well agitated. She’s up to something.’
Alfie fell silent as he sat in the empty club trying to process what Vaughn was telling him. There was no way Franny would go behind his back. Mug him off. Do the dirty. No way at all. Okay, she’d taken the money but as he kept telling Vaughn, that was different. It was to save somebody’s life. He couldn’t be angry for that. And it’d been a one-off. In all the time he’d known her, over all the years, she’d never once given him reason to mistrust her. He was the one not to be trusted. Him, not her. He’d been the one who’d broken Franny’s heart with Bree. He’d also been the one who’d slept about at the beginning of their relationship and he’d been the one who’d gambled money and invested in projects without telling her. But her? Franny? No, she was loyal. Loving. Faithful … Honest. Yes, she could also be cold and hard, but that was only because of the way she’d been brought up among the gangsters and faces of London. She wouldn’t have survived or made it to the top any other way than being the way she was, which meant at times she had to be ruthless, but none of that equated to her hurting him or Vaughn, none of it spelt that she was going to betray him in any way, and it pissed him off that Vaughn thought it was okay to insinuate that. ‘Wind your neck in and shut the fuck up about Franny.’
‘I will, when you can tell me where she is, because clearly she ain’t at home. If you ask me …’
Cutting in straightaway, Alfie roared, ‘I didn’t ask you, so leave it!’
Vaughn’s eyes glinted with anger. ‘I know you didn’t, but I’m telling you anyway. She’s obviously boning someone at the same time as planning to rip us all off.’
That was it. Unable to control his temper any longer, Alfie dived over the bar, grabbing hold of Vaughn, bringing his fist hard into his face. ‘Say that again and I’ll kill you. You hear me?’
He banged Vaughn’s head against the bar but, undeterred, Vaughn fought back. His face red, his words harsh.
‘So go on then, Alf, tell me where she is. Tell me where she fucking is!’
‘Where’s who?’ Franny stood at the entrance of the club, looking at the two men. She gave a small smile to Alfie before walking up to kiss him, then turning to Vaughn, her gaze full of hatred, she said, ‘Where’s who, Vaughn? I hope you weren’t talking about me?’
‘Where’ve you been, Franny?’ Vaughn smirked as he questioned her.
Calmly, but with her heart racing, Franny answered him. ‘I’ve been at home, doing me nails.’
Alfie, having let go of Vaughn, pushed his fringe out of his eyes. ‘Told you.’
‘Let’s see then.’
Incredulously, Franny continued to glare at Vaughn, her chest tightening as she tried to keep down the panic. ‘Excuse me?’
‘Let’s see your nails.’
‘What the fuck is wrong with you?’
Slowly, Vaughn sauntered across to Franny. He grabbed her hands roughly and examined them.
‘Don’t look like you’ve been doing your nails to me.’
Locking eyes with Vaughn, Franny pulled her hands away. Her voice icy cold, she said, ‘I did my toenails. What? Are you going to pull off my shoes now to see my polish?’
Matching Franny’s animosity, Vaughn nodded. ‘If I have to.’
From behind Vaughn, Alfie stepped in. ‘Of course he’s not. Not unless he wants to go through me. Well do you? Cos I’m in the mood for a fight now.’
Turning to Alfie, Franny shook her head. ‘Alfie, don’t. He ain’t worth it. He’s got a problem with me because of what I did. I get that, but it’s stupid to fight among ourselves.’
‘How noble of you.’
Ignoring Vaughn, Franny continued to speak to Alfie. ‘I’m sorry I took so long – I wasn’t feeling so great – but I’m here now and I’m all ears.’
As Alfie went to sit down, Franny followed but was held back by Vaughn grabbing her arm. He whispered in her ear, ‘You and I both know you weren’t at home, and I’ll find out what you’re up to, Franny Doyle, and then I’m going to bring you down and watch you burn like a towering fucking inferno.’
Half an hour later, Alfie, agitated, having explained what had happened with Charlie said, ‘So that’s the bottom line, Fran, it’s a fucking mess. The last thing we want to do is fork out money to him, but at the same time, no one wants a war. This is already going to have a knock-on effect with the punters. Who’s going to want to come to a club when there’s a possibility of some fucker coming through the door with a machete?’
Taking a sip of her lemonade, Franny, not looking the best herself and having listened intently to what Alfie had been saying asked, ‘But can’t you talk to him, Alf? You’ve known him since you were kids. You two used to hang out together.’
Fighting being distracted by what Vaughn had said about her, Alfie shrugged, hating the fact that jealousy and doubt were beginning to creep over him. Everything seemed like it was out of control, and he didn’t like that feeling one little bit. ‘When we were little, and that don’t hold any weight anymore – not really. This is Charlie we’re talking about. Once he’s made up his mind, that’s it. It proper feels like we’ve been snookered. Have an all-out war with the geezer or …’
Vaughn interrupted, his gaze firmly on Franny as it had been for the last half an hour, wanting to make her feel as uncomfortable as possible. ‘You’re not thinking about actually paying him, are you? Cos that ain’t ever going to happen on my watch, Alf. This is my business as well, and I’m not handing my money over to some nonce.’
With the stress beginning to weigh heavy, Alfie slammed his fist on the bar in front of him. ‘Do I look fucking stupid? We just have to work out another agreement with him, cos he ain’t going away. If we can bring down how much he wants …’
Vaughn snapped, ‘I already told you, that’s not going to happen. Look, I think the best thing we can do is get some kip. We’ll talk tomorrow when we’re all thinking straight … Oh and, Franny, don’t forget I want to go over those accounts with you.’
Back in Soho Square, in the large, cream and gold decorated bedroom of Alfie and Franny’s townhouse, Alfie lay on the king-size bed, smiling at Franny as she got undressed. He’d decided he wasn’t going to tell her what Vaughn had been saying about her. It was stupid for him to even get wound up by it. No doubt the cocaine, useless as it was, had played a part in his paranoia. In all that was happening. The letters. The club. Franny was his constant. Beautiful and loyal, but more importantly, Franny was his, all his, and no one was going to try to tell him otherwise. But as Alfie watched Franny climb onto the bed, a sudden unease crossed over him as his gaze wandered down to her feet and he noticed her unpolished toenails.
7
It was just past 6am and Alfie couldn’t sleep. Hadn’t slept. Though it was less about the cocaine that ran around his veins and more about the feelings that rushed around his body.
He’d stayed awake all night watching Franny sleep fretfully, tossing and turning, and it’d taken all his willpower not to wake her up and ask her a thousand questions about the truth of where she’d actually been. More to the point, who she’d been with. Shit. Shit … He hated feeling like this. Jealousy was not something he wanted to deal with; the last time he was jealous, he’d done someone a serious injury.
He didn’t have the headspace to cope with it, not on top of everything else. Jesus, this was the last thing he needed, and part of him was pissed off with Vaughn for making him feel like this. The man hadn’t had any solid evidence about anything, yet he’d just piled a whole heap
of doubt in his head.
Annoyed, Alfie got up and pulled on a pair of jeans and a jumper. He needed to get some fresh air. Lying in bed thinking was only making everything worse – a lot worse – and the last thing he wanted to do was have a blowout row with Franny.
After striding outside, Alfie stood, leaning against the wall, taking long, deep drags on his cigarette before stubbing it out on the wall of Barclays bank, situated on the corner of Greek Street. He felt the chill of the early morning air as he watched a dustcart speed down the road, seeing it scrape against the wing mirror of a badly parked black cab, but it was good to get out.
Turning away and immediately lighting another cigarette, Alfie crossed the street, heading for one of the cafés in Rathbone Place to get himself a coffee.
He couldn’t think straight. Maybe he should get away. As much as it was good to be back in Soho, especially this particular part of it – the small square a hideaway from the bustle of the West End – it hadn’t brought him the peace of mind he’d hoped for. Everything was becoming a mess. The letters. The tension between Vaughn and Franny. And now Charlie had his dog in the fight, it was becoming one big fucking nightmare. And as much as he hated to admit it, he just wanted to run.
Maybe it was best if he threw in the towel at the club, or maybe like Franny had suggested, he should go and speak to Charlie on his own. There was a lot of history between Charlie and him. There was even a time when he’d helped Charlie out and he’d never asked anything in return. So maybe – though it would rile him to have to – if he went and really pulled the favour card, then maybe Charlie might think again … Fuck, he didn’t know what he … A sound broke into his thoughts. He spun around. The street was now deserted but he waited for a moment, trying not to let his jumpiness overwhelm him.
He took a deep breath to calm himself down, steadying his breathing before continuing to walk, but then he stopped again, listening intently … There it was, and it was coming from over there. He stared at the trees in the near corner of Soho Square Gardens. He could see someone hiding there.